


A Wedding on Kyoshi

by vifetoile



Series: Yuletide Extravaganza [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, F/F, Family, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Karaoke, Kyoshi Island, Light-Hearted, Look every time I get a beta reader it costs cartoon network 42 bucks, Romance, Songfic, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, and I ain't even mad, self indulgent, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-02-20 08:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22014238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vifetoile/pseuds/vifetoile
Summary: Asami and Korra decided on a small, private ceremony on Kyoshi Island, with Katara as the officiant. A story of love in all its forms; mostly wedding fluff, with a sprinkling of introspection, a soupcon of speculation, a dash of humor, and, of course, lavish description of wedding gowns.Now complete, with midnight karaoke shenanigans!
Relationships: Katara & Asami Sato, Katara & Korra (Avatar), Korra & Senna (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato
Series: Yuletide Extravaganza [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584574
Comments: 3
Kudos: 96





	1. Early Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Legend of Korra or The Last Airbender. Please enjoy, and stay posted for future chapters!

The alarm rang. Asami reached over and turned it off, then snuggled back into Korra’s arms. Day had barely broken. A little light filtered in from the east. They were far to the south, on Kyoshi Island. It was New Year’s Eve. The room was very simple: low ceilings, wooden paneling, tatami mats on the floor. A small radiator hummed in one corner. On their futon, Korra moved a little to press a kiss to Asami’s temple.

“Did you get some sleep?” Korra asked.

“Barely,” Asami whispered in reply.

“Me, too.”

“I’m too excited.” Asami rolled onto her back. She looked at the kimono, carefully displayed along a wall, and then at the grey light seeping over the ceiling. “I can’t believe it. Today’s the day. All of our planning, all the secrecy, the travel delays, but we made it, and it’s _here_.”

“New Year’s on Kyoshi Island.” Korra lifted herself to better see Asami’s face, and the joy there. “By this time tomorrow, we’ll be…”

“Korra? Can you ask me again?”

“Again?” Korra’s laughter was like birds taking flight. “But I asked a dozen times last night…”

“Please?” Asami insisted. Her hand came up to caress Korra’s chin, and that did it. Korra surrendered blissfully.

“Asami, let’s get married.” 

~*~*~*

An old woman entered the inner courtyard. Her white hair was arranged in careful Water Tribe braids and loops. She looked around her with bright, curious blue eyes. Birds fluttered overhead and she whistled to them; a bare wisteria vine received a friendly pat. This was Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, and for the first time in twenty years, she’d woken up away from the South Pole.

The courtyard had a fine dusting of snow. Katara rolled her shoulders, and with an easy gesture, bent the snow off of the ground, scattering it evenly up above, so it would fall beyond the house’s roof. With a little focus, she could pick up voices in the silence: the snowflakes in a soprano choir, clouds rumbling up above her, the sea crashing in the distance, even the somnolent hum of sap in the wisteria vine. The music of water all around.

“Yep, I still got it,” she murmured to herself. 

“Good morning, Katara!” Asami greeted her, sliding shut the door to her and Korra’s room. “It’s good to see you.” 

“It’s a beautiful day here in Kyoshi,” Katara agreed. “I’ve missed this landscape so much.” 

Asami’s eyes brightened. “I see you’re enjoying the prototypes I brought you?” 

“Yes, quite,” Katara said, holding out her arms. She was wearing a Future Industries Thermal Leisuretime Snowsuit (patent pending), suitable for a quick run for groceries, curling up by the fire with a mug of tea, or waterbending exercises in the middle of winter. Katara’s suit was blue, with braids of yellow and coral parading down the sleeves and legs. “It’s been a long time since I had something so athletic. I almost feel ready to powerwalk.” 

“You’ll be powerwalking around the island in no time!” 

“I’ve got more of a mind to surf, as a matter of fact. These warmer seas are pleasantly tricky.” 

Asami wondered if she’d heard right. In the heart of midwinter, the seas around Kyoshi battered at the island in frigid shades of grey and blues. And this was _warm_? Well, of course it was, to an Antarctic tribeswoman.

Best to change the subject. “Will you join us for morning exercises?” Asami asked.

More guests were entering the inn’s courtyard. Jinora and Ikki looked frazzled and sleep-deprived, but happy nonetheless. Ikki whistled to the birds overhead, unknowingly copying her grandmother. Kya called from the room she shared with Katara, assuring her mother that she’d be out there in a minute. And from Asami’s room, Korra slid the door open and called hello.

Katara rubbed her hands together and smiled. “Oh, yes,” she said to Asami. “It’s been far too long since I could greet the day in such good company.”


	2. Late morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Bolin is very bad at keeping a secret. Korra and Senna, her mother, take a moment. 
> 
> Also, a couple of Sailor Senshi snuck their way in here, I can't imagine how.

Kuwa’s Fine Silks and Kimonos opened at eight in the morning sharp. They expected plenty of custom on New Year’s Eve. Even so, neither of the junior assistants expected to see a handsome man outside as they opened the shop door. He was stocky, with impressive sideburns and bright green eyes, and his look was tenacious. He was a man on a mission. He would not be deterred by any means. And he was a considerate fella, so he finished his breakfast churro and dusted off crumbs before he stepped into Kuwa’s.

This was Bolin, as the faithful reader might conjecture. And Bolin was, indeed, on a mission. His whole day—nay, this whole trip to Kyoshi Island!—was shaped to the task. He wouldn’t be officiating this wedding, true, but Korra trusted him to pick up the kimono that she had ordered from Kuwa’s Fine Silks, her own bridal finery. He _would not fail_. 

Of course, just because this was the core and focus of Bolin’s day did not change how the day went for the assistants at Kuwa’s. When Makoto and Minako (for those were the names of the assistants) opened the shop, they were already deep in gossip about New Year’s festivities around the island. 

When Bolin entered, the two girls were still chatting. Makoto, a tall girl with pink rose earrings, was opening the window shades and saying with a sigh, “My friend who works in Matsu Park says that there’s a private event there tonight. She says they’ve ordered lots of food, and booked musicians, and they’re setting up a double row of lanterns, all to be held by moonlight. It sounds so romantic, I bet it’s a wedding.” 

Minako tossed her head, sending her red hair ribbons waving. “I think it must be an elegant soirée for that mystery couple that came on the Omashu Ferry—you know, after the storm? I’m wild to know about them. The tall lady’s always wearing a veil over her face and scarves and all, I bet she’s someone really famous!” 

“But sir!” Makoto regained her focus. She accosted Bolin in a polite way, trying not to loom. “I apologize for our distraction. Welcome to Kuwa’s Fine Silks and Kimonos, and how can we be of service?”

“I’m here to pick up an order, placed two weeks ago,” Bolin said.

“Very good.” Makoto gave a little nod to Minako, who pulled out the ledger. “And what is your name, sir?”

“Oh, the order isn’t mine,” Bolin corrected, “I mean, that is to say, I am here on behalf of the client who _did_ place the order. I’m just picking it up.” Bolin hurriedly patted around his coat, and from an inner pocket on his vest he drew a folded slip of paper. “This is the receipt, with the—you see—authorizing me—and I have my ID handy.” He produced his United Republic passport and laid it on the counter.

The assistants peered at the receipt. There was the letterhead of the Kuwa’s store in Republic City, and the signature of the store’s manager—Minako recognized the details of the order—and the signature of the client herself—

“It _can’t_ be,” Makoto breathed. Beside her, Minako began to jitter one foot. Her hair ribbons began to wiggle.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that this has anything to do with the fascinating women of mystery who’ve appeared on Kyoshi Island in the past week,” Bolin added, holding his hands up. “I will not _confirm_ nor _deny_ , so it’d be better for everyone to just snuff all speculation. This is a perfectly ordinary pickup for a perfectly ordinary client.”

Makoto reeled backwards as if dizzy. She set a fluttering hand to her bosom. “I—I must get Ms. Murasaki,” she said dazedly, and hurried out to the storeroom.

As for Minako, stars were appearing in her eyes. “All this time—my wildest daydreams come true—Avatar Korra and Asami Sato, _here_ , in Kyoshi Island—!”

“Please don’t put any stock in your daydreams,” Bolin urged her, but he had a queasy feeling that control of the situation was slipping away from him. “I could be representing any clients—“

“But you’re not, I recognize you from the newspapers, you’re Bolin, ohmigosh can you introduce me to Mako?”

“I’ve never heard of the guy! Who’s Mako? I confirm and deny everything —nothing!” he spluttered as Ms. Murasaki came into the room.

The manager of the store was a short woman, but oh boy, she had a commanding presence. She nodded to Bolin, then inspected the receipt, and said to him, “We’re very glad to have your custom, and the order is ready. And may I remind you—” this was directed with an eye at Minako, who was now practically floating with excitement, “Kuwa’s Fine Silks has built our reputation on tradition, on the enduring quality of our products, and on our _discretion_.”

“Discretion, yes, _yes_ , thank you,” Bolin said. He relaxed a fraction. “Please, the last thing that we all want is publicity—tourists, gawkers, paparazzi swarming the place—when the whole thing’s written up in the Republic Gazette, Kuwa’s will get a big shout-out as the source of Korra’s bridal kimono, but until then—”

“Got it, got it, mum’s the word,” Minako nodded, miming zipping her mouth shut.

At the same time, Makoto asked, “Just the Avatar? Isn’t Asami Sato going to wear a kimono, too?”

“Oh, yes,” Bolin said. A huge grin spread over his face. “But that’s different. She’s wearing her mother’s wedding kimono.”

Makoto, burly, tall, brusque Makoto nearly dissolved into tears when she heard this. Between sniffles, the onlookers could interpret a wail of “it’s so romantic!” Not to be outdone, Minako tried her best to swoon, but her healthy lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Murasaki told both of her assistants to take a few minutes outside to compose themselves, and then she directed Bolin to meet her in the showroom. The Avatar’s kimono, she said, was ready.

~*~*~*

Senna pressed her lips as she put the white robe around Korra’s shoulders. “Wearing white always makes me feel so anxious,” she admitted. “Nothing to do but worry about getting dirty. I’d just as soon go without.”

“The white is supposed to symbolize purity, I think,” Korra said, looking down at her sleeves. “Maybe it helps my mind get in the right mood.”

“I’m glad that you’ll be wearing blue for the ceremony itself. Blue is the only real color for a bride,” added Senna, tugging out the hem of the robe so that it lay flat and even all around Korra’s hips.

It was early afternoon. Korra was going to undergo a ritual of purification, following the customs peculiar to Kyoshi Island, and her mother, Senna, was providing emotional support.

“Asami will be wearing pink. I’m just warning you now, so you don’t flip out later,” Korra said to her mother. Senna smiled.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just being a little provincial. You decided that on an Island wedding, because this is where Katara can meet you. But will it feel real enough? To you two, I mean.”

Korra rolled her shoulders. “Maybe in a year we’ll have a Water Tribe ceremony… then after another year, we’ll have an Air Nation handfasting… then a Fire Dance a year after _that_ … I’d marry Asami over and over again, all over the world, and then start again here!”

Senna laughed and hugged her daughter in delight.

A few minutes later, Korra stood in front of the shrine’s priest. They were in a cobblestoned courtyard, before a well. The priest prayed for focus and the blessing of the spirits, as he had done for hundreds of brides (but helping the Avatar, now that was a feather in his cap, and no mistake!).

Korra listened. The priest drew up some water with a ladle. Korra held out her hands, and the priest anointed them with the cold, cold water.

Korra closed her eyes and bowed, enough that the priest could pour water over her forehead and eyes. As she did, she tried to bring calm into her heart. To think of purity.

All over the world, people had different ideas of purity, different notions of tarnish, vice, or sin. Korra wasn’t about to apply every method to her soul—that would take all month and then she’d be left with the fortitude of a damp towel. Instead, she brought her focus to the silence of the air, the goosebumps on her skin, the solemnity of the day.

Korra thought about her imperfections. Anger, impatience, stubbornness, selfishness. Memories surfaced, all centered around Asami. When had her imperfections gotten the better of Korra? When had these vices kept her from loving Asami as fully as she could?

As the priest’s prayer reached its final part, Korra turned her mind to the future she and Asami would build together. What would Korra bring to this marriage? She could bring passion, and strength. Any tidbit of wisdom or talent for introspection, she would dedicate to Asami, so that when they did fight, they would mend and forgive. Korra would give all the love that she could, her very best self, the rest of her life.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped them away as the priest finished.

When the ceremony was concluded, Korra bowed to the priest and thanked him again. She turned back to her mother and was surprised to see—

“Mom! You’re tearbending!”

Senna laughed to hear that, but it was a wobbly sort of laugh. She wiped tears from her eyes, and Korra caught her in a bear hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m just overwhelmed. So many feelings… The day we realized you were the Avatar, it rather meant that you belonged more to the world than to us. I cherished every day I could—but I feel I’ve hardly had time to really be your mother, to be there for you every day…”

“Mom, you _were_ there, you’re the best mother. I couldn’t do this if you weren’t here…”

“You could, and that’s fine, too, that’s as it should be. I’m just…” She sniffled.

“Mom, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just bringing Asami to be in _our_ family.”

“I know, dear heart. I’m…” Senna wiped a tear from Korra’s cheek, and smiled into her daughter’s eyes. “I’m so glad I can be here for you, with you, today.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too. Now, let’s see if Bolin’s gotten the kimono yet.”


	3. Afternoon

The main telegraph office of Kyoshi Island sat just off of Downtown Plaza, tucked snugly between an okonomiyaki stand and a post office, with a tea shop across the street. Katara and Ikki walked down the street, like any other grandmother and granddaughter team, and as Ikki chatted and Katara interrupted and they both laughed, they ducked into the telegraph office.

There were five messages waiting, which Ikki requested on behalf of Korra.

The first message was from Lord Zuko, who apologized—he couldn’t make it to Kyoshi on short notice, but he sent his best wishes to the happy brides, as well as the wishes of his family. Prince Wu had prior engagements, but he’d treat the girls to a celebration when they were all on the same coast again. Suyin sent a similar message, and said that she had sent presents to their home in Republic City. Varrick and Zhu Li promised that they would make it, with their apprentices in tow.

Last was a telegram from Eastern Swamp Outpost. It read just, “Thanks for the notice.”

“Thanks for the notice?” Ikki repeated. “That’s blunt, and no mistake.”

Katara peered at the address. “It certainly is… who’s even out there at Eastern Foggy Swamp?”

Ikki’s eyebrows lifted. In a high, excited voice, she said, “Wait, that’s where we found—“

She clamped up when Katara gestured for silence. In an equally excited whisper, Ikki said into her grandmother’s ear, “That’s where we met Toph. Where she was looking for enlightenment, remember, when Korra disappeared?”

She pulled back, and saw a wry smile spread over Katara’s face. “Is that so?”

“But all she said was thanks for the notice. Does that mean she’ll be here, or no? I guess it is a long way to travel by water,” Ikki said, fretting.

“Blunt and unhelpful.” Katara nodded. “It certainly _sounds_ like her. Let’s get to the bakery.”

Ikki set her arm through Katara’s. “When was the last time you saw Toph?”

“I last _saw_ her twenty years ago. But I’ve gotten letters from her.”

“Letters? How? She’s blind!”

“Ikki, there are such people as professional letter-writers.”

“… Oh.”

“I didn’t get a lot of letters, but I know she thinks of me. That’s all I need—to know she’s alive and hasn’t forgotten me.”

Ikki shook her head as the sun came out. “I can’t imagine going that long without talking to one of my friends.”

“Of course not. You haven’t even been alive that long.”

“If a friend of mine doesn’t send a message after twenty _days_ , I start to worry that they secretly hate me.”

“Oh, Ikki, dear.”

“I bet you never had to worry about that…”

“I had the opposite problem. There were times when I was traveling with Toph, or with Zuko, especially Sokka and Aang—we’d been in such close quarters that we were all sick of each other.”

“ _No_.”

“Yes! We would get on each other’s nerves and bicker… the arguments I had with Sokka over _papaya_ , I mean, really… and then I would worry, do they keep me around because I’m useful, or do they really like me, for me? You’re in fine company, Ikki. A little worrying is very normal.”

Ikki hugged Katara’s arm and shoulder. “Just a little, though, right? Because Asami has been so worried about the cake, and I think she’s worrying _too_ much, and…”

Ikki’s chatter faded as the two entered the Sunbird Bakery, to pick up the wedding cake and pastries.

~*~*~*

It was an early midwinter sunset. Kya and Senna took Korra by the shoulders, and said it was time to get her all ready. Pema already had an arm hooked around Asami’s waist. Korra made a laughing protest, and Asami promised to see her soon, and they kissed each other quickly before their respective retinues led them away.

Asami’s wedding kimono was already hung up carefully in Pema’s room. The outer robe was a wonder in silk. It was covered with cherry blossoms, rendered with such care that with every gesture, the embroidery seemed to quicken with life. A slightly richer color at the hem suggested depth, and gold thread on the shoulders gave the illusion of sunlight. There was all the allure and promise of spring, sitting quiet in the heart of winter.

“I’ve dreamed about wearing this,” said Asami.

But she wasn’t looking at the outer robe, brimming with petals. She was touching the inner kimono. This was of good make, yes, but plain. Unimaginative. The main pattern was a fletching of grey and lighter grey. It had been manufactured in a workshop thirty years ago, for no special purpose. Asami’s eyes filled with tears.

“That’s the one your mother wore, isn’t it?” Pema asked. She put her hands on Asami’s shoulders.

Asami nodded. She wiped tears away with the heel of her hand. “Have I told you about my parents’ wedding?”

“Yes, but I’d love to hear it again.”

Asami smiled at her. “They had been engaged for a year when the Hong-Fang Crash hit Republic City. Future Industries was hit hard. It looked so bad, in fact, that my father actually took the train to see Mom, without giving her any warning. She was staying in City of Industry then, with her parents. It was eight at night when Dad showed up, unannounced. He told her that he was releasing her from the engagement. If she didn’t want to marry a penniless man, he said, he wouldn’t tie her down.

“Mom called that a ‘fit of lunatic nobility’—of course she loved him, she said, and she wanted to marry him. She was insulted that he thought that she loved _money_ more than him. There was some yelling and laughing and crying, I’m told. But they understood each other pretty well by the end.

“They realized that they just wanted to start the rest of their lives, together. So they’d been planning a big fancy to-do, but they scrapped it. They got married the very next day, at the city hall, right before boarding a train back to Republic City. This kimono happened to be nice enough on short notice, and sturdy enough for travel.”

“And your mother kept it,” Pema said.

“Well, of course. You can’t buy memories like this…” Asami swallowed a lump in her throat, “It’s a funny coincidence, that my mom wore a kimono when she got married, and Korra and I are getting married on Kyoshi, where kimono are traditional at a wedding. I’m really glad it worked out this way.”

“Kismet, serendipity,” Pema offered, as she laid out combs and hairpins. “An unexpected blessing.”

“The cherry-petal robe was a gift from Dad for their tenth anniversary,” Asami went on. “I remember the party that they had, and Mom and Dad renewed their vows.” She took a deep breath. Her hands went to her head. “First, I’ll brush out my hair, while you get the cosmetics ready. Do you think those sandals will be alright if there’s snow on the ground?”

“As long as you have warm socks,” replied Pema. The older woman mirrored Asami’s practical mood. To cry a little and tell her parents’ love story was a part of Asami’s healing, a way to bring Yasuko and Hiroshi into the day. And Pema took into her heart the honor of being Asami’s audience. After all, a good definition of ‘family,’ in Pema’s book, was “a group of people who hear one another’s stories, and keep them, and tell them again year after year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks! stay tuned for the next chapter!


	4. Early Evening

And speaking of talking…

Katara leaned back on the deck chair. She was alone on the balcony. _Blessedly_ alone. She loved all of her grandchildren so much, but if she had to spend another hour with Jinora and Ikki’s questions and Meelo’s cries of “ _Gran-gran, look at me!_ ” and Rohan… well, Rohan was shy. He didn’t demand Katara’s attention five ways from Sunday. And that didn’t help Katara’s mood—she would have loved to have time to know _him_ , without his loud, lovable siblings shoving themselves in her way.

Now was the hush before the ceremony itself. People were getting ready, or preparing the ceremony site. Eksa and Desna had arrived, without the slightest bit of advance notice. (When Lin Beifong demanded why they hadn’t replied to the invitation, Desna merely gave her a perplexed look and said “ _Korra’s our family_ ,” as if that explained everything. Maybe it did.) The arrival of the twins had given Katara’s grandchildren an immediate task, which was how Katara had slipped out and set up tea on a balcony overlooking the sea.

Katara felt very peaceful about the evening event. She’d officiated over a score of weddings in her life. For Asami and Korra, she’d prepared a prayer, and had it memorized enough that she could be flexible with the mood of the evening.

No, whatever anxiety Katara felt had nothing to do with the wedding, and everything to do with…

A tiny quake shook the balcony. Katara gripped the railing and looked away. Her heart was hammering. She hardly dared to hope… but she _did_ hope, and didn’t want to taste disappointment—

The thudding footsteps sounded on the stairs from the beach.

“I’m here,” called an old woman.

“Toph,” Katara said. She turned, and stared. “ _Toph!_ ”

“Yeah, it’s me, don’t get all—oh, okay, a hug _if you insist_.” Toph said this as Katara caught her in a tight embrace. Toph hugged her back with all the warmth of day-old noodles, and then continued in her previous vein.

“You guys are dang lucky that I checked the telegram office in Foggy Swamp when I did. I had a hankering for red bean pancakes and strolled into town.”

“They’ll be happy to see you,” said Katara, pulling away and wiping her eyes.

“Korra’s met me once, that should be enough. I came to see _you_.”

Katara repeated, “Came to see _me?_ Toph, you know where to find me. You sent letters.”

“Letters are one thing. Stepping onto the South Pole, with fathoms of glacier between me and good solid rock—you _know_ I’ve never liked ice.”

“You couldn’t overcome a dislike of ice to see me?”

“You couldn’t overcome a dislike of greenery?”

“I don’t dislike greenery—“

“All the landmasses on this planet and you stick to the South Pole! Honestly, woman, why’d it take you twenty years to set foot on a simple continental crust?”

For a second, Katara saw the scene as if she was looking at it from overhead—two old women standing and bickering on a nice winter afternoon, with the sea chortling and the ghosts of the girls that they had been, listening. Her face screwed up, and she laughed.

“I asked you a question, Sugarqueen! C’mon, the South Pole isn’t _that_ interesting.”

“ _Sugarqueen_ ,” Katara echoed, and laughed louder. She dared look at Toph. The other woman’s reserve was cracking through a crooked grin. 

She still deserved an answer. Katara took a deep breath. “Oh, Toph. There’s a lot that you missed.”

“I know.”

“And we missed you, for that matter.”

“I know.” Toph set her shoulders back a little. “I’m sorry.”

“C’mon, sit down. You’ve come a long way, and I’ve got tea brewing.”

Toph sat down. Sniffed the air. “Green?”

“Jasmine and green.”

A brief grin lit Toph’s face, but she said nothing. Of course Katara remembered a detail like Toph’s favorite tea.

“Let’s see—to put it very simply—” As her thoughts gathered, Katara stretched out her left arm towards the bay. Notwithstanding a little arthritis, she could sense the currents of the water, the volume of salt, even the temperature—hers to bend if she wished, but she didn’t wish. Let the water flow as it would. She held the awareness in her left hand, and spoke. “Aang died, and the whole world held its breath until the Avatar was found again. That took five years. And the Chieftain of the Northern Water Tribe, well, he kicked up an almighty fuss about me. Unalaq, his name was. Seemed to have this notion that I was too powerful of a bender. I could take over both Water Tribes, if I set my mind to it, and I had political ties to back me up.”

“He thought you might start a _war_?” Toph asked, disbelieving.

“He didn’t say so in as many words, but he kept whispering around… planting doubts, seeding suspicion… and the Earth Queen was extremely receptive. Snappish as a mantis-wasp, and paranoid about her southern coasts. I put up with five years of that.”

“He thought you’d start a war. _You_ ,” Toph shook her head. “He sounds like a dummy.”

“Ehh. He wasn’t half as smart as he thought he was. Anyway, there was enough trouble that the Order of the White Lotus stepped in, and we held a meeting. With a few nobles from here, a few ministers from there, and Unalaq and I, staring icicles at each other across the table… we agreed to a sort of treaty. Well, a gentlewoman’s agreement. I didn’t sign my name, but I agreed in speech to remain at the South Pole.”

“Why the hell?”

“To show that I was committed to the peace. I would not cross international waters or use my bending powers in an act of war,” she recited, as if by rote.

“Oh, you had to show that you were committed to the peace that you only spent _your whole life_ building up! I’d like to give that Unalaq a piece of my mind.”

“If it’s any consolation, he’s dead.” Katara poured out the tea. Jasmine steam filled the air. “Well,” she amended, “we’re pretty sure he’s dead, it was kind of unclear. Get this: he sailed _here_ —I mean, to the South Pole—but went out of his way to avoid meeting with me. He babbled all kinds of wisdom and philosophy to Korra until he had her awestruck by his powers… and before you know it, Unalaq forced an _embargo_ on the South Pole. He had the stones to act like this was some kind of paternal gesture and not an act of war. Within a week he was talking about the two Tribes re-uniting—with him in charge, of course.”

Toph hooted with laughter. “Crap, that’s awful. I shouldn’t laugh. But I mean, of course! He pointed at you to smear you with all his own ambition.” She shook her head. Katara tugged out the chair opposite her, and Toph settled herself in. Katara refilled the teapot with a little wave. She felt like she might bubble over with happiness. To sit here and talk to Toph.

“I thought as much at the time, when he first confined me to the South,” Katara said. “But Unalaq was dead set against me, and I didn’t have the spirit to fight. Aang had died, and then Sokka—so abrupt—and Suki was fading.”

“That must have been really hard for you,” Toph said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

After a pause, Katara said, “I missed you, but you’re here now.”

“More than that. You’ve got your fighting spirit back, now,” Toph observed. “Of course, you’ve gotten all creaky and wrinkly and saggy like me—“

“Come on…”

“—But your heartbeat’s light. Your chin’s held up high. That’s what I like to see.”

“You sound like a healer.”

Toph snorted. “It only took me fifty years, but I’m getting the hang of Earth medicine. I’ve been studying acupuncture in earnest. With that, I bet I’m a way better healer than you now.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, now what got your spirit back, Sugarqueen? Was it Korra?”

Katara nodded. “Korra was born to Senna, who has a proud Southern lineage. I would have kept my distance, if Korra and I didn’t get along, but—“

“You said ‘hello’ and you were thick as thieves, eh?”

“Yes. I love that girl so much. Watching her grow has been such a gift.”

“And now she’s getting hitched. And you’re doing what? Playing music?”

“Not exactly. Korra and Asami are getting married, and they asked me to officiate.”

Toph gave an approving nod.

“They’ve come all the way out to Kyoshi Island for the ceremony,” Katara went on. “I couldn’t sail to Republic City for Jinora’s Anointing ceremony—and let me tell you, I was _furious_ about that. But Kyoshi Island, for three days, I can visit. That’s as far as my gentlewoman’s agreement allows.”

“Oh, hang the gentlewoman’s agreement. Come with me, Katara. We’ll steal a skiff—after the ceremony, of course, and the food—and we’ll go back to all our old haunts. Don’t tell me you don’t miss the seasons up North. The smell of the earth waking up in springtime. C’mon, Katara, let me whisk you off, and leave everyone scratching their heads about where you went.”

Katara hummed thoughtfully, but couldn’t stop a smile. “My kids might worry about where I’d gone… but then again, they don’t visit me nearly often enough. A little befuddlement would serve them right.”

Toph snickered into her teacup.

“I want to stay through the reception. Korra wants me close by, and Asami—have you met her? She’s a lovely girl.”

“That’s nice.”

“But Toph—“ Katara laid her hand on Toph’s, “I’ll have a bag packed by midnight, and leave the boat to me.”

“ _That’s_ the Katara I know. Will it be a good boat? Big sails, full bar, the works?”

“I’ll commandeer the fastest and fanciest pleasure-boat on this backwater.” Katara tapped her cup to Toph’s, who grinned and took another sip. “Will you attend the wedding yourself?” Katara asked.

“Oh, sure. I came all this way. Besides, think of the sensation I’ll make! Not to usurp the brides of course,” she added.

“You might give Tenzin a heart attack.”

“That would do him good.”

“ _Toph_ , that is my youngest _child_.”

“Well, a shock would do my Lin some good, too.”

Katara’s laughter echoed over the surf. Her laughter was what finally brought Ikki onto the balcony, and within minutes everyone in the inn knew that Toph had come to Kyoshi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This conversation was so much fun to write. I couldn't resist the chance to develop some backstory-- why doesn't Katara ever leave the South Pole in "Korra"? And I could bridge the staid, elderly lady we meet in that series to the passionate leader we left at the end of "Airbender."   
> To be continued! Leave a review if you liked it, and thanks!


	5. Late Evening

Evening. Time for the ceremony.

A brilliant full moon shone over Tranquility Park. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. Of course, that meant it was wickedly cold, but that’s why there were so many blankets and wraps set out for guests. The last amber rays of the sun were giving way in the west to light blue, then deep, pricked with stars that glinted like ice.

Round paper lanterns cast a decidedly warmer glow on the congregation. They had gathered around the Kioku Pine, which was the oldest tree living on the Island. Its topmost branches seemed likely to brush the moon herself.

Some twenty feet up from the ground, spirits ganged and looped among the branches. The Kioku Pine’s own spirit was happily playing host to them, pouring liquors of distilled morning air and fermented sea-foam. They toasted the health and happiness of the Avatar, and otherwise paid little attention to the humans.

Katara stood at the tree’s roots, wearing deep blue robes. Before her was a table, with a standing bowl, a bottle of hot sake ready to be poured out, and cups for the ceremony. A heat lamp stood nearby. Pema was on one side, Senna and Tonraq on the other.

Mako gave a signal. The brides were ready, it’s showtime! The congregation hushed.

Asami entered first. Her cherry blossom kimono was at once in contrast to the wintry night, and a perfect complement. Mother-of-pearl pins glinted in her chignon. She shivered with relief when she was close enough to feel the heat lamp’s effect.

She stood by Pema, who held in her hands a portrait of Hiroshi Sato and Yasuko Miyamoto.

Then Korra entered. Her inner kimono was white and grey, and her outer robe was a match for the night sky above—a deep, deep slate blue which lightened towards the hem. Rabbits frolicked at hem and sleeves, picked out in silver thread. A full moon, surrounded by clouds, shone on Korra’s back.

At the altar, the brides clasped hands and beamed into each other’s’ eyes. Tonraq wiped away a tear.

Katara began the ceremony with a prayer. She struck the sounding bell with a mallet, to produce a deep, resounding chime. One chime for each thanks.

“I give my thanks,” she began, “to the sustaining Earth. To the Kioku Pine, bearing witness.” (Up above, the Kioku Pine spirit and friends raised a toast.) “My thanks to Avatar Kyoshi, who shaped this island to protect her people.”

“My thanks I give to Fire and to Air; my deepest thanks I give to the Moon above us, and the Ocean around us. In this sacred night, we gather to witness the marriage of Asami and Korra.” She smiled. “It’s a beautiful night to get married, but it’s also dreadfully cold. I won’t keep us out here too long.

“If you know me at all, you know that I like to hold forth about the four elements and what they signify. You can blame my husband, if you like.”

“I will,” Toph promised from the fourth aisle.

“But all these years,” Katara went on, “I’ve found that four elements makes a good frame for a sermon. Water, Earth, Fire, Air, and that’s quite enough, Toph.”

Toph held off on groaning theatrically. Beside her, Lin looked vexed to hell and back.

“Water, the native element of Korra and myself. Water changes constantly. The flowing tide grows full and begins to ebb, or ice melts to welcome spring. Such is the surprise of love. One secret, one smile, one day at a time, until the entire foundation of one’s life is altered.

“Earth, though, Earth won’t yield easily. Earth is a certainty that that can only be earned with time. Passion and thrills can fade when Earth collects its due. Love is not logical or practical,” Katara went on, “But marriage must be. To build a home, engage with the world, to raise a family—Earth is needed for all of these.

“Now we get to Fire. Some refer to Fire as ‘passion’ and leave it as that. But Fire is an element of change, no less than Water. It is dynamism, life itself. Its home in the body is the stomach, the seat of willpower. Fire invigorates us to choose, and keep choosing. To choose to fight for love, in ways great and small. All this is the province of Fire. Korra and Asami, you two each have an enormous will to persevere and to create. Now you affirm that, together, you choose to make a married life, greater than the sum of your parts.

“And Air. The element of freedom.” She paused, and for a second the entire congregation tensed, in case she should start to cry—but then she chuckled, astonishing everyone. “I got to hate that phrase, when Aang and I were engaged. So many terrible jokes! If Air is for freedom, why was he going to get hitched?”

“The freewheeling bachelor lifestyle!” Toph called.

“Yes! Sokka used that phrase to death.” Katara laughed, apparently not noticing Tenzin, Kya, and Bumi growing increasingly mortified. Even Korra murmured, “Master Katara…”

“I beg pardon, dear. You and Asami love to travel and see the world.” A collective sigh of relief; Katara was talking like a proper officiant again. “You don’t need to marry for an escape, as far too many people do. And you love each other, but your love is like a moving sea between your souls. That is a healthy love. Not chained by ankle and hand. Only in freedom can love thrive. In such freedom, you gift the world to each other. You share your souls with each other. The future is not hemmed in, but open. Any vista might await you, but you’ll meet it together, with hands joined.”

Korra and Asami gazed deep into one another’s eyes. They were almost aglow with joy. Katara finished, “And now, the brides shall present their necklaces.”

Korra drew a velvet pouch from her deep kimono sleeve. From the pouch she took a necklace. The band was strong silk, colored deep blue. Korra held it out so that the congregation could see the pendant, which was light blue with a whisper of green, and then she presented it to Asami.

“We agreed on silk necklaces,” she said, “with carved stone pendants, which is a Water Tribe tradition. And we agreed to source our pendants from the United Republic, which is where we make our home. This amazonite comes from near the city of Compass. This piece struck my eye with its intricate colors—every change of light shows new depths. Needless to say, it reminded me of you, Asami.”

Asami blushed. Korra went on, “Only afterwards did I find out that amazonite is a stone for the air chakra, which deals with love.” Korra’s left hand rested a moment on her own heart. “That sealed my choice. What better stone for the most loving, generous woman I know? With my best artistic ability, I carved it just enough to bring out the natural beauty, to help it resemble the ocean, which is your namesake.” A shaky inhale. “The ocean gives us life, and love gives life meaning. Asami, my love—” She looked up at her, and her eyes shone, “I’m so grateful I can spend the rest of my life with you.”

Asami wiped a tear, whispered “Thank you,” and then presented her own necklace: a deep red stone on a ribbon of dark grey. “This stone is garnet,” said Asami. “It was mined from the Hua-Mulan Quarry over fifty years ago. Where the quarry was is now the Magnolia District of Republic City. And, well, no surprise, but it’s been in my family collection since then. My grandmother, Koharu Uchiha-Sato, was a jewelry designer. She never found a use for this stone, but kept it all the same. I went to her collection, because you’re going to be a part of my family now, Korra. This stone just spoke to me. Maybe it was meant for you, all the time.”

She chuckled, sending a little puff of white into the cold air. “To think about history, to think about everything that’s brought us here, together, everything that led up to our first meeting… it amazes me. We found and chose one another, out of everyone in the world. It’s close to miraculous. But I’m rambling and it’s so cold.”

“Don’t worry, Asami.” This murmur came from Katara, who was smiling with a deep contentment in her eyes.

“Well. I chose garnet, and I’ve been told that garnet is a good stone for all the chakras—“

“Man, you’ve got _me_ beat,” Korra said, shaking her head.

“Don’t make me laugh, I might not stop,” Asami warned. “Garnet, as I was saying, is a stone for all chakras, particularly the root chakra. I liked it, because we’re starting a new life together. Garnet is a stone for love, for balance and strength. It’s perfect for you, Korra. I love you, and I’m so glad to be yours.” The fingers of her free hand twined with Korra’s. “Let’s start our life together.”

“Sounds perfect,” Korra replied, so softly that no one but Asami heard.

“You have affirmed your love, with the congregation to witness,” Katara said, for all to hear. “The air accepts your words. Now, exchange necklaces.”

Asami turned carefully, so the hem of her kimono wouldn’t twist too much. She bowed her head slightly to give Korra easier access. It struck Korra as a very vulnerable, trusting gesture—the back of Asami’s neck, exposed to the cold air and all dangers. In a minute Korra had wound the necklace around Asami’s throat and fastened it with its two tab closures.

Asami turned back, with the amazonite glinting under her chin. The two women reversed, and now it was Korra who bowed her head and trusted Asami. Asami’s deft fingers fastened the necklace around her neck, and Asami’s fingers lingered just a second on Korra’s skin.

“And now the toast. Three sips of hot sake, in the tradition of Kyoshi Island,” Katara said. Steam billowed into the lamplight as she poured out sake from the insulated bottle, without haste, but with due promptness (by now the cold was really starting to bite) into a shallow cup, one of three.

Asami (the older) took up the cup first. Holding it up, she said “Korra, I take you for my wife. I promise to love, honor, and protect you.”

She took a careful sip, then handed the cup to Korra, who drank and drained it.

Katara poured out a second cup, a slightly larger one. This one Korra took. She held it out and said, “Asami, I take you for my wife. I promise to love, honor, and protect you.” She sipped, and gave it to Asami, who drank.

Katara poured out a last cup of hot sake, and again Asami took it, and vowed to honor Korra as her wife, and sipped. Korra took the cup, spoke the vow, and drank. She lowered the empty cup, and she was smiling with a slightly dazed, giddy expression.

“Beloved guests,” Katara said, “I present to you the brides, Asami and Korra. Now let’s get inside and celebrate!”

A cheer went up from the congregation. Korra and Asami leaned in and kissed one another, a slightly askew peck that tasted of rice wine. If it weren’t for Katara’s firm shepherding, the brides could have been swamped with hugs and kisses from their family and friends—but Katara’s direction prevailed, and the congregation made their gradual way out of the park, towards the inn and the dining room, towards dancing and lots, lots more sake.

The last one remaining was Kya. She cleared off the table of the standing bowl and sake bottles, and packed them away. There hadn’t been much trash, but she helped the park workers to pick up what there was. As the park rangers stowed away the chairs, she bowed low before the Kioku Pine.

“Kioku Pine spirit, we thank you for the use of your space. I hope we haven’t displeased you.”

“It was a lovely ceremony,” came a trill from the lower boughs. “And it didn’t take too long, after all.” 

Kya smiled. “The space is yours again. The brides asked me to convey to you our thanks, and best wishes for a Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year!” came an answering trill. Satisfied, Kya took up her pack, thanked the park workers, and headed to the inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to have a little epilogue. The wedding ceremony is a bit of a Western marriage, a bit of a Shinto wedding, and simplified. I apologize for any egregious errors. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope this lifts your spirits. R&R, and stay safe.


	6. Midnight

Twelve midnight. The reception was over. Long live the afterparty!

There’s no place in the world quite like a karaoke bar in Kyoshi Island on New Year’s Eve, especially not with a tipsy wedding party in attendance.

At the moment, Bolin had the stage. Not just had, he _commanded_ the stage. Even drunk as he was, his words and his claps kept perfectly to the percussive rhythm. Behind him, Mako and Desna, ostensibly backup singers, barely registered. 

“Buddy, you're a young man, hard man, shouting in the street, gonna take on the _world_ someday—“ deep breath—“You got blood on your face, you big disgrace, waving your banner all over the place, singing—“

The entire bar joined in: “We will! We will! ROCK YOU!”

“Sing it! Ah!”

“We will! We will! ROCK YOU!”

In the front row, Opal cheered wildly for her fiancé. Beside her, Esna stirred her blueberry daiquiri with luxurious slowness.

“It’s a good view, isn’t it?” she asked Opal, as Bolin slapped his muscled thighs. He was displayed to advantage.

Opal tapped her glass to hers. “Indeed, indeed.”

Behind them, in the corner booth of honor, sat the brides. While their friends performed or cheered or merely wandered around trying out pinball games, Asami surveyed the scene with eyes aglow. Korra was draped over her in a most artistic fashion (Asami had made sure of that). They still wore their wedding kimonos, but the sleeves and hems were carefully pinned up. Asami’s hair was loose around her shoulders.

“I shouldn’t have a bias, but I admit the southern hemisphere really is my favorite one—“ Asami was saying, when her left wrist came into Korra’s view.

“Asami, it’s almost midnight!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Asami looked at the clock on the wall to confirm. She swore and stood up. Korra clanged a spoon against the nearest glass.

“Ladies! Gentlemen! Those of you who have yet to make up your minds!” Asami declared. Heads turned towards her. “My wife has just reminded me—“

Pauses for wolf whistles and cheers while Asami beamed and Korra took her hand for a kiss.

“—it’s a minute to midnight! Get your New Year poppers ready, and hold on to your hearts!”

“Hats, dear,” said Korra, getting to her feet.

“No, I meant hearts, it’s more artistic,” Asami said with a firm nod.

Korra shrugged and tried to look sad but her blue eyes sparkled. “Well, then, I’m afraid I lost my heart a good long time ago…”

“Oh, no, I’ll just have to give you mine…” Asami kissed her wife once and again, until Bolin gave a rock-splitting whistle from the stage.

Some people grabbed a partner and clung close; others just grabbed a glass and smiled. The bartenders (who were themselves in high spirits because the brides both tipped generously) called the final countdown.

“Ten—” As Eska met her brother’s eye in a silent glance that Desna knew how to read: it meant, _We’ve made it through another year without Dad, cheers to us!_

“Nine—” Ikki spun on the balls of her feet, thanking this year for all it had given her and her friends.

“Eight—” Bolin tightened his arm around Opal, and whispered, “Eight months until it’s our turn, babe.”

“Seven—” and Opal whispered back, “Eight months and eight days, but who’s counting?”

“Six—” And on the other side of the room, by the window, Jinora said to Kai, “Come with me to the Fire Nation this year. Please?”

“Five—” And Kai said to her, “Yes, I will.”

“Four—” Meelo and Rohan were trying to break in through the ceiling, but when they realized that midnight was imminent, they paused to count down together.

“Three!” So much joy, thought Mako, so much love among his family. Because this _was_ his family now, and who would have ever believed it, seven years earlier? Ikki stopped spinning nearby, and he raised his glass to toast with her.

“Two!” “I love you so much, Asami,” said Korra.

“ONE!” Asami’s eyes held more than could ever be said in words.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Cheers, applause, kissing and drinking ensued.

The brides stayed entwined a good ten seconds longer than any other couple, accompanied by many hoots and hollers. When they broke apart, they conferred briefly in whispers and then Korra turned. “Strike up the Midnight Special!” she declared to the guy managing the karaoke machine.

He obliged, and switched records on the Victrola. Piano music filled the air, seasoned with scratches and pops.

“Wait, is this—“ Mako asked.

“I haven’t heard this song in ages—ow!” Bolin yelped as Korra pulled on his arm.

“Sorry man, but it’s midnight and Asami and I are going to serenade you,” she explained in a rush.

“You mean upstage us,” Opal countered, but she and Bolin hopped down to the floor.

Korra took the stage and pulled Asami up after her. Asami took the microphone just in time to sing:

“We were strangers, starting out on a journey… never dreaming, what we'd have to go through! Now here we are, and I'm suddenly standing—at the beginning with you,” she drew the note out as Korra took a breath.

“No one told me, I was going to find you,” she sang. “Unexpected, what you did to my heart, when I lost hope, you were there to remind me: this is the start!”

Asami hit the high note and the bar erupted into cheers.

Behind the bar, Meelo and Rohan finally pried open a ceiling tile and lowered themselves to the bar. Nobody noticed except for Jinora, who rolled her eyes and went to have a few words—with her brothers or the bartenders, whoever she could catch first. Meanwhile, Ikki whooped and cheered as the brides started the chorus:

“Life is a road, and I wanna keep going; love is a river I wanna keep flowing—“

“Life is a road, nanana nanana WONDERFUL JOURNEY,” Korra belted, which made Asami laugh. “I’ll be there when the world stops turning, I’ll be there when the storm is through…”

Asami caught her breath to sing with her, “In the end, I wanna be standing at the beginning with _you_.”

Meanwhile, back at the inn, there was a letter addressed to Kya on Katara’s personal stationery. Mostly the letter said, “Thank you, dear, and don’t worry about me.”

In the inn’s private sake bar, Tenzin and Pema were burning midnight oil, reminiscing on their own wedding, their marriage, and the ceremonies that each had officiated. They toasted the brides often.

At the same moment, a yacht had been unmoored from its place in Unagi Pier. It was speeding away north with the ease of a waterbender finally in her element. If you listened closely, you could hear Katara and Toph laughing.

The midnight chimes echoed away, wishing everyone in Kyoshi and beyond a happy New Year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fluffy journey. Stay safe out there.  
> I'd like to give a shoutout to that one Card Captor Sakura fic from years ago, the one that was a songfic with Sakura and Syaoran performing "At The Beginning." I'm sure you know who you are, long lost fic writer. And for the tumblr user known as 4afs, who made a beautiful Korrasami edit the words "In the end, I wanna be standing at the beginning, with you" which turned that promptly into an OTP song.


End file.
